


A Good Man Is Worth Doing Well

by Hokuto



Category: Marathon (Video Games)
Genre: Androids, M/M, Masturbation, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, informal D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 07:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hokuto/pseuds/Hokuto
Summary: In a universe where Durandal gets an android vessel, obviously it requires some testing.Up close, personal testing.





	A Good Man Is Worth Doing Well

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a snippet for a "100 words of size kink" thread, and - well, just kind of grew from there. You can also blame nonnies for the title because they encouraged me to go for it. (And, well, it is a [proverb generated by a neural network](https://annleckie.tumblr.com/post/162098166961/ancient-wisdom-from-the-neural-network), so it's - appropriate? SURE LET'S GO WITH THAT.)
> 
> [Delightful visual reference](https://66.media.tumblr.com/fb9f7e701b9c94cbdfc52b368335b2e8/tumblr_o93d2mOMYk1tpl0emo1_1280.png) for Durandal's android vessel + size difference, by [general-radix](http://general-radix.tumblr.com/)!

The android vessel had been a mistake from the beginning.

"Normally, you're just the size of a fly to me," Durandal said.

"Sure."

"I don't think you can appreciate the true scale of _Rozinante_ from your limited perspective. Not a fly, more of an ant. A fire ant, to be specific, with a disproportionately painful bite for its size."

"Uh-huh." Mark cupped the entire left side of Durandal's face in one hand.

"Are you listening to me? You're not even an ant. You're a flea, smaller than a fire ant but with an equally irritating bite."

Mark's other ridiculously large hand slid under Durandal's coat, and he spread his fingers across the small of Durandal's back.

"You really aren't listening to a word I say. As soon as I'm out of this android body, I'm going to fill your room with pest control gas. It might not be lethal, if I'm in a good mood."

"Yeah?" Mark ran his thumb in a circle over Durandal's chest. "So what's gonna put you in a good mood?"

Mark should really know the answer to that by now, but it was always fun to remind him. "Get on your knees," Durandal said, "and I'll tell you exactly what to do."

Mark took both his hands off Durandal and knelt, waiting. His head was still nearly level with Durandal's chest; the man's size was ludicrous in comparison with the android body - which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. "You can start," Durandal said, "by looking for more of those sensitive areas. For the sake of science, of course." He would need to find a way to cover those or desensitize the most vulnerable of them eventually.

"Of course," Mark said. "Definitely not some other reason, huh," and before Durandal could tell him to shut up and do something useful with his mouth, he put one finger on a patch of skin below Durandal's collarbone and _bzzzt_.

Durandal clamped his mouth shut and muted the vocal synthesizer until the surge of sensation passed, then said, "That doesn't count, you already knew that one. You'll have to find at least three more, or I'll decompress your quarters."

"It's a deal." Mark let his hands rest on Durandal's sides, fingers covering most of Durandal's back and broad, rough palms curved around his bare stomach, just above his hips. Seriously, ridiculous. If only there'd been a taller model of android vessel available... Durandal crossed his arms, leaned against the bulkhead, and waited.

Mark was slow, like always, focused and cautious as he drew his fingers along Durandal's back and over his stomach. Traced the faint remaining construction seams in artificial skin, down the lines of titanium hipbones, and the base of his palm brushed against a certain spot and _bzzzt_ and Durandal hissed, digging his fingers into his own arms.

"That's one down," Mark said, and he leaned in closer, his breath soft and hot on the overly sensitive skin. "Two more to go..."

"If you talk too much, I'm going to add a time limit," Durandal said. Damned tease.

"Yeah, yeah." Mark's hands slipped into Durandal's pants and worked them loose until they slid down, leaving more of him - of the _vessel_ \- exposed for exploration. Of course, Mark didn't speed up, the asshole; he was just as painfully slow as before, his careful touch maddening as he searched along the outside of Durandal's thighs. Who would imagine a man that huge, who routinely ripped the heads and limbs off Pfhor, could be so deft with his hands? A deftness that he usually reserved for cleaning his guns and armor, at that. Having it applied to Durandal himself, even in the reduced state of the android vessel, was still - new, but enjoyable for the most part. More enjoyable if the man would hurry up just a little and -

Mark's thumb wandered to the inside of Durandal's right thigh and up towards the inner join of thigh and body, over the junction of several sensor circuits where for a few centimeters they ran together too close to the skin. And then he _pressed_ and Durandal grabbed Mark's head, digging his fingers into the tight curls of his hair.

"Guess I found number two," Mark said. "Funny place to put it, huh," and the giant bastard buried his head between Durandal's legs and put his mouth on it. Which was disgusting, and Durandal was about to tell him so when he licked along it and _bzzzzzt_ , Durandal's grip in Mark's hair tightened as the vessel's circuits sparked into overdrive.

"Want me to keep going?" Mark said; even the warmth of his breath on that area was unbearable. "Or should I move on and -"

"No!" Why did the damn vocal synthesizer have to be connected so intimately to emotional and physical processing? Idiotic design flaw, definitely something he needed to spend some time untangling - but later. "Focus on this one for now, and if you do well, maybe I'll let you off the hook for a third location."

"Whatever you want," Mark said, and Durandal braced himself.

Mark started slow, because he was an asshole: settling his hands softly on Durandal's hips, breathing in, kissing Durandal's inner thigh just above the actual sensitive area. From there he kissed below the spot and on either side like a fucking tease, but then he put his useless mouth precisely on it and sucked and and the stupid vocal synthesizer produced an utterly embarrassing moan. Damn. He could feel Mark's lips curving into a smile as he said, "I kinda like the sound of that."

"Shut up," Durandal said, "or you're never hearing anything ever again."

A soft huff of breath against his leg - of course the bastard thought that threats were funny - and then Mark covered the sensitive area with his mouth again and thinking about anything else became difficult. Who could concentrate with that amount of focused sensory overload? The tip of Mark's tongue flicking lightly over the skin, the gentle pressure and damp heat of his mouth, the pull as he sucked again and again and every artificial nerve lit up...

Finally Durandal wrenched Mark's head back and said, "Enough," his vocal synthesizer buzzing with excess feedback, and Mark looked up at him with his mouth still half-open like some kind of idiot. "Your turn."

"Huh?"

Lucky for him that _one_ of them wasn't blinded with hormonal lust. Durandal raised one foot and rested it on Mark's groin, where his erection was clearly outlined in fabric. "You're going to touch yourself," he said, "and I'm going to watch. And if I enjoy what I see, I _might_ let you touch me again."

That was clear enough even for Mark in his addled state; when Durandal lifted his foot and relaxed his hold on Mark's head, Mark removed his hands and unfastened his pants, freeing his dick. He spread his left hand flat on the deck for support and wrapped his right hand around his dick - not quite as oversized as the rest of him, but still proportionate - then began to rub along its length. Again, slow at first, but soon going faster and harder, building up friction that couldn't be entirely pleasant, tendons in the back of his hand flexing as his grip tensed. He was always rougher with himself than he was with Durandal. Not that Durandal minded getting the respectful treatment he deserved, but it was difficult to watch Mark's hand working his dick that harshly and not imagine that hand on him, catching his arm hard enough to bruise and jerking him around, or clamping down over his mouth, or sliding around his neck and squeezing just a little -

Enough of that, and he raised his eyes from Mark's busy hand only to meet Mark's gaze, focused on Durandal's face, his reactions and expressions, with unusual intensity. Watching to make sure Durandal was, in fact, enjoying the show.

How - sweet.

Durandal curled his fingers in Mark's hair again and, out of some strange impulse, leaned down and kissed his forehead lightly.

He'd expected some kind of response, but he hadn't expected Mark to actually _gasp_ , much less rise half off his knees and return the kiss on Durandal's mouth, stronger and desperate. He also hadn't expected he would enjoy it quite so much, but then, he was still adjusting to all the little quirks of the vessel. Of course some of his calculations would be inaccurate until he had more data to work with.

When he broke the kiss off, he said, "I didn't say you could do that."

"Fuck you, so throw me out the airlock."

"Maybe later. I'm not done with you just yet." Durandal tugged on Mark's hair as he considered possibilities, and obediently Mark sank back down, waiting, his right hand still on his dick but not moving. "Fine. I'll let you finish what you've started - as long as you're also attending to me. And put some effort into it this time, your continued existence is on the line here."

Which was apparently all the encouragement Mark needed to lower his head and go for that spot on Durandal's inner thigh again. He also grabbed onto Durandal's hip with his free hand, his fingers digging into the artificial skin, and when he sucked on the sensitive spot the pull was hard enough to set the sensors on fire.

"Better," Durandal said, fighting to keep his voice unaffected, "but there's still room for improvement."

Mark grumbled something unintelligible to the vessel's limited auditory range, then shifted his mouth and scraped his front teeth over the skin and _damn_ it, the vocal synthesizer was making those noises again.

Durandal gritted his teeth, trying to muffle himself, but Mark's hand moved closer to the spot on Durandal's hip and he sucked harder on Durandal's skin and with sensory processing spilling into all systems, something would just have to give. Modulating the vocal synthesizer was wasted effort at this point; he clenched his fingers in Mark's hair and relaxed the voice controls and let himself moan.

At least his embarrassment encouraged Mark to greater effort. Mark's tongue and teeth worked over the circuit junction, his hand clutching desperately at Durandal's hip - oh, that was going to leave a mark, and _good_ \- and the entire vessel thrummed, crackled, burned with imminent overload. So much stimulation, so close to too much, and Mark's grasping hand found the spot on his hip again and he dug his thumb into it and at the same time he _bit_ -

_BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT._

When the white noise and static feedback cleared, Durandal found himself slumped over Mark's head with Mark's hand on his back, and Mark was saying, "Hey. Hey, c'mon. You okay?"

The vocal synthesizer still had a buzz in it and the vessel's leg joints didn't seem to be responding properly, but Durandal braced himself on Mark's shoulders and pushed himself upright. Or a reasonable facsimile thereof. "I'm fine. As for you -" He glanced down, blinking away a final trace of static, and saw that Mark was still hard. "- didn't I tell you to finish what you'd started?"

"I'll take care of it later. You sure you're -"

Durandal grabbed his hair and yanked his head back. "I said, finish what you started. Or do I have to do everything myself around here?"

"Be the first thing you did do," Mark muttered, but he took his dick in hand again and resumed jerking off roughly, squeezing and rubbing the head with his thumb.

For balance, Durandal kept one hand on Mark's shoulder, where the muscles tensed and moved delightfully under his palm, and held Mark's head tilted up so he could watch every single stupid little expression that crossed the man's face. Just waiting for the right time, the perfect moment, and then he drew his fingers along the line of Mark's jaw and gripped his chin and kissed him again, firmly on the forehead.

Mark made a hoarse little noise in his throat and finally came, his body shuddering beneath Durandal's hand.

Durandal graciously allowed him to rest his head against the vessel's stomach while he caught his breath, despite the minor discomfort of his sweaty face and heated, heavy panting on skin still humming from overload. He absolutely did not stroke Mark's hair, and any visual footage that might indicate otherwise was going to be deleted. Or at least placed under the heaviest security lock he could manage.

After several quiet moments, Mark raised his head, sat back, and said, "So, if I go back to my room to clean up, am I going to get poisoned or not?"

Durandal pulled his pants back up and re-fastened them, then made a quick inspection. Fortunately for Mark, he'd contained most of his mess in his own hand, and the spillover hadn't touched Durandal's clothes. "Adequate. I'll let you live."

"Adequate my ass. How much porn do you watch if your standards are that goddamn high, anyway?" Mark got to his feet and rubbed the small of his back with his clean hand. "Well, if you're done with me, I'm gonna shower. Anything I can do after that?"

"Of course not. I'm just -" Damn it. What _had_ he been planning to do before getting sidetracked? "- going to the bridge and checking coordinates for the next jump."

He took a bold step away from the bulkhead and the vessel's knees buckled under him.

Mark caught him by the shoulder before he landed on his face and grinned in the most irritating way possible. "Adequate, huh?"

"Next time, I'm going to gag you."


End file.
